


Partners in Crime

by dracoqueen22



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 22:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18108107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: Emotions weren’t really a thing either of them admitted to having, but actions spoke all Prowl needed to know.





	Partners in Crime

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for a wonderful supporter. You know who you are. ^_^

Of all the bounties they chased across the universe, hauling in a Pentaflexiamoriantrichoglycerite – colloquially known as Pentas – fugitive was one of the absolute worst. They were notoriously insular, always came in trios at the very least, and they were armed to their many rows of teeth and their extra pair of, well, arms.  
  
Also, they reeked.  
  
‘Dead or Alive’ never mattered when it came to a Penta. A bounty hunter either brought them back in pieces, or relatively intact, but dead either way.  
  
Prowl ached.  
  
He ached, and he stank, and all he wanted was to soak in the washrack until the tank ran empty of solvent, and then collapse on his berth and recharge for the rest of the week. Unfortunately, this being the Death’s Head, Prowl only had a measly five minutes to spend in the washrack.  
  
Perhaps the next upgrade Lockdown acquired, he should use on improving his ship and their bathing capabilities. Prowl knew he could convince Lockdown, so long as he used the appropriate methods.  
  
The bounty hunter could be predictable in certain situations, and Prowl was not above using a bit of trickery to get what he wanted. If anything, it was rather necessary around Lockdown.  
  
He appreciated trickery.  
  
Prowl left Lockdown to stow and secure their bounty. If this meant Lockdown would have unfettered access to whatever tasty mods were on the Penta, so be it. He had his wants, and Prowl had his.  
  
Longer shower time.  
  
He made a mental note.  
  
Besides, their client hadn’t stipulated that the bounty be returned fully intact. Slag, they didn’t even have to show up with their bounty alive. Pentas were rarely caught alive. That they’d managed it meant he and Lockdown had more than earned their bonus.  
  
Prowl trudged to the washrack, dripping energon and oil and organic blood, the reek of it clinging to him in an odious miasma. He glared at his reflection on a passing panel, the sharp golds of his paint splashed by purple fluids. He’d done most of the work this time around. He better be getting the higher cut of the creds.  
  
Prowl slid into the narrow rack and powered it on, groaning as the steaming solvent sprayed over his frame, immediately washing away the first layer of filth. He grabbed a bundle of meshcloths to scour away the rest, working quickly to scrub it out of his joints and his seams.  
  
But still not quickly enough.  
  
His shower went from comfortably hot to frigidly cold without any warning. Prowl spat a curse, rinsed as quickly as possible, and slammed his hand on the panel to deactivate the spray. He stood there, dripping, and closed his optics, focusing for a few moments on some meditative exercises.  
  
He would not have this argument again.  
  
Prowl snatched a meshtowel and dried off with efficient strokes, glaring at himself in the mirror. The downside to being clean was that it revealed how very scratched, scraped, and dented he was. There was little to be found in the way of Cybertronian comforts, here on the edge of the universe.  
  
He should be used to this by now, given how little Cybertronian comfort could be found on Earth. They’d made do with car washes and the car supplies the humans bought for their non-sentient vehicles, but it was never quite the same.  
  
Prowl could really go for a full detail right about now. He’d never been one for indulgent comforts, but given how long he’d been without, he could make an exception. His joints ached, there was dirt in his gears that had been there for years, and he needed a systems flush.  
  
Maybe it was time to sneak into Cybertron and visit Ratchet. He’d ask a lot of grumpy questions, but he’d do it. He’d probably even do Prowl the favor of not telling Optimus or Bumblebee or Bulkhead he’d stopped by.  
  
Prowl tossed the dirtied cloths into the bin with the others and palmed the door to the washrack open, releasing a thin cloud of steam into Lockdown’s face.  
  
Prowl blinked. “Why are you lurking in the doorway?”  
  
“Because I knew if I didn’t, you’d sneak away, and I’d have to chase you down.” Lockdown smirked and hooked Prowl’s waist. “It’s time we had a little post-hunt celebration, don’t you think?”  
  
Their frames clattered together. Prowl grimaced, the stench of battle and organic fluid still clinging to Lockdown. He hadn’t been splattered as much as Prowl, mostly because he’d been the distance half while Prowl had played bait.  
  
It didn’t work the way they’d intended, and Prowl’d had to damage their merchandise a little more than he should have, but the Penta was alive and in their cargo hold so that was all that mattered.  
  
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Prowl asked while a large hand groped his aft with little preamble. He carefully hid how much it appealed to him. “We don’t have our pay in hand yet.”  
  
Lockdown laughed, a rumbling, dark sound that had no business rattling its way straight to Prowl’s array. “We will soon enough. There’s nothing that gets by us. It’s why we make such a great team.”  
  
“That Penta almost got by us,” Prowl pointed out.  
  
Lockdown rolled his shoulders. “Even the best have their off days.” He grinned and leaned closer, vents whuffling. “Look at you, shining clean and ripe for the tastin’. Is all that for me?”  
  
“I was thinking of heading straight to recharge,” Prowl said.  
  
“Good plan.” Lockdown’s field surged, heavy and hot, before he stooped and abruptly tossed Prowl over a shoulder before he could slip out of Lockdown’s hold. “Let’s go.”  
  
Prowl debated fighting back for the space of a klik before he let Lockdown do as he wished. Sometimes, it was the easier course of action. Besides, it was inevitable. Lockdown had his habits, and Prowl had learned them well.  
  
“Don’t you have our bounty to log?” Prowl grumbled.  
  
“Did it already, kid. You’re behind.”  
  
“Was the client pleased?”  
  
“Certainly seemed so. We get there in less than twenty decacycles, and our bonus gets even fatter.”  
  
Prowl snorted. “Must not be familiar with you then.”  
  
“Yeah, this old rustbucket is a lot faster than she looks.” Lockdown laughed as he slammed a fist against the berthroom panel, and it slid open. He ducked to enter, narrowly missing banging Prowl’s head on the frame.  
  
“You know, you could have just asked,” Prowl said before he was unceremoniously tossed onto the berth, and it was only his quick reflexes helped him land comfortably, rather than in an inelegant sprawl.  
  
“More fun this way.” Lockdown crawled on the berth after him, intent glowing in his optics. “You did good tonight, kid.”  
  
Prowl rolled his optics behind his visor. “I don’t know how I live without your approval.” He watched Lockdown, doing his best to conceal the slow curl of arousal in his abdomen.  
  
It was never a good idea to let Lockdown know how much Prowl wanted him.  
  
Lockdown bent down, pressing a kiss to the inside of Prowl’s nearest knee. “I don’t either.” His chuckle sent warm bursts of heat over Prowl’s joint cabling. “You really want to recharge or can I play with you first?”  
  
Prowl curved forward, hooked a finger in Lockdown’s clavical strut and pulled. “This answer enough for you?” He twisted his frame around Lockdown, flipping them on the berth until he straddled Lockdown’s waist, his thighs splayed wide in open invitation.  
  
Lockdown smirked, one hand and one hook landing on Prowl’s knees before sliding upward. “It’ll do.” He swept a thumb inward, stroking over Prowl’s inner thigh. “Gonna open?”  
  
Prowl slid his fingers around Lockdown’s wrists and tugged his hand where he wanted it -- right over his array, thick fingers meeting the slick of his now bared valve and spike. “I believe I just did.”  
  
“You are such a smart aft.” Lockdown hooked his shoulder and pulled him down, reaching up to snag Prowl’s lips for a kiss.  
  
“I do believe that’s why you want me,” Prowl said against his mouth. His mouth curved into a smirk. Lockdown brought out the worst in him, he swore it.  
  
“Stop talking and start fragging, kid.”  
  
Prowl chuckled and rolled his hips, grinding down against Lockdown’s panel. “I would if you’d open yours.”  
  
“Just waitin’ for the right moment.” Lockdown gripped the back of Prowl’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss, a deeper one, his glossa pushing into Prowl’s mouth like a claim.  
  
The thick heat of his spike emerged, hot as it slid against Prowl’s, fully pressurizing in a moment’s sparkbeat. It was flattering, how much Lockdown wanted him. Then again, Prowl’d be lying if he claimed he didn’t return the desire.  
  
Prowl slid his hand between their frames, pressing his spike against Lockdown’s and twisting his hips in a slow, rutting grind. Lockdown shuddered, his ex-vents puffing over Prowl’s mouth, his field expanding in a slow roil of building arousal.  
  
“That’s it,” Lockdown purred. “Just like that.” He arched up, grinding back, his field whirring with want. “Come on, Prowl. Ride me good.”  
  
“I’m not going to do all the work here like I did on the mission,” Prowl retorted, denta clamping down on Lockdown’s lips in a bite he knew the other mech couldn’t resist.  
  
Lockdown groaned, a visible tremor running up his frame. “Thought ya were too tired to be this playful.”  
  
“Maybe I’m just trying to push your buttons.”  
  
“It’s working.” Lockdown grabbed his hips and tugged, pulling Prowl easily up his frame, until he straddled Lockdown’s chassis, leaving his thighs splayed wide and his array on full display. “You’ve got no right to be this sexy, Prowl. Think I’m gonna eat you up.”  
  
Prowl groaned, his internals tightening with want. “Is that a promise?”  
  
Lockdown’s hand slid inward, fingertips dancing around Prowl’s valve rim, teasing at his lubricant and slicking his fingers. “You want it to be?” One finger eased inside, and Prowl moaned as his valve flexed around it.  
  
“Primus, yes,” Prowl hissed, rocking down on Lockdown’s finger, trying to urge it deeper.  
  
“I always forget how small you are,” Lockdown murmured, his voice thick with heat and want, his fingers slipping and sliding around Prowl’s rim. “I don’t know how.”  
  
“Your chattering is not doing either of us any good,” Prowl panted, hips rocking down onto the pressure of Lockdown’s fingers, trying to urge them inside where they’d do the most good.  
  
“You’re right. I should occupy my mouth.”  
  
Prowl got a glimpse of a smug smirk curving at Lockdown’s lips before he was lifted and pulled right onto Lockdown’s mouth, lips and glossa licking around his valve rim. Prowl gasped, tilting forward, clutching the berth as he rode Lockdown’s mouth, the pressure of Lockdown’s lips suctioning around his anterior node. Pleasure flashed like lightning through his array, and licked up his spinal strut in a starburst pattern of need.  
  
“That… is a far better use for your mouth,” Prowl gasped, hips rocking on the swipe of Lockdown’s glossa and the gentle, perfect pressure of his denta around Prowl’s swollen nub.  
  
Lockdown trapped it between his denta, flicked the tip of his tongue over it, and Prowl shuddered, jerking to the rhythm of Lockdown’s glossa. Charge shot up and down his spinal strut, heat spilling like magma into his core. He clutched at the berth, grinding down on Lockdown’s mouth, riding the motion of his lips and glossa.   
  
Prowl’s ventilations hitched. His valve cycled on nothing, nodes taunted by the flicking caress of Lockdown’s glossa. His spike bobbed, the underside occasionally rutting over Lockdown’s forehead.  
  
Then Lockdown groaned, and the vibrations of his vocalization buzzed over Prowl’s array, setting it alight. He gasped, frame jerking, as overload swelled and burst inside of him, a buzzing surge of charge spilling through his lines. Static attacked his visual feed as he curled forward, struggling to ventilate, hips moving in little bursts against Lockdown’s face.  
  
“Mmm, better,” Lockdown purred against his array, still licking up into Prowl’s valve, slurping up the lubricant as if it were fine engex. “Think I can fit in you now.”  
  
Prowl went limp, frame twitching in the aftermath of such an intense overload. He felt pleasantly warm and languid, his thighs trembling, and his valve cycling on nothing, nodes sparking arrhythmically.  
  
“Not that I’m ungrateful for the overload, but you could have ‘fit’ before.” Prowl uncoiled his fingers from the berth covers, loosening his tight clutch on Lockdown’s head.  
  
Hot damp flicked across his exterior node cluster, tearing a sharp sound from Prowl’s intake.  
  
“But this is half the fun of it,” Lockdown murmured before he dragged Prowl back down, sliding him over Lockdown’s frame until the vee of his thighs bracketed Lockdown’s spike, seeping pre-fluid at a desperate rate. “Besides, now I can sit back and enjoy the show.”  
  
Prowl braced his weight on Lockdown’s abdomen, rolling his hips to slide his valve up and down the length of his spike, taunting him with a penetration he couldn’t have yet. He shuddered, heat licking back up his spinal strut, the ridges on Lockdown’s spike catching on the rim of his valve and giving him jolts of pleasure.  
  
“Sure you can.” Prowl managed a smirk through the pleasure twisting and winding within him. Teasing Lockdown was akin to teasing himself, but like the Pit would he let Lockdown continue to think he was the one in charge around here.  
  
They were partners. Equals. Every once in awhile, Prowl had to remind him of that.  
  
He rolled his hips again and again, smearing his lubricant up the length of Lockdown’s spike, but never taking him inside. He ground down, rutting against Lockdown’s spike, making a mess of his array.  
  
“Quit playin’ with me, kid,” Lockdown growled, his hand on Prowl’s hips, trying to pull and guide him. He tried with the hook, too, but Prowl had the better leverage.  
  
He grinned and curled his fingers, sinking them into Lockdown’s abdominal seams. His knees digging into the berth, thighs clamped tight. He wouldn’t give anything he didn’t want to give.  
  
“Why not?” Prowl’s grin broadened. He smirked at Lockdown, reading the frustrated arousal in the other mech’s face, the glaze of hunger in his optics. “I got mine. Seems to me I don’t have to worry about yours.”  
  
“Since when have you been selfish?”  
  
“Since I had to play bait for a fragging Penta,” Prowl retorted. He sank down, catching Lockdown’s spike head with his valve rim, only to rise up again, letting him slip free.  
  
Lockdown spat a curse, his field slapping through the room with a burst of angry need. “Would it make you feel better if I told you he might’ve got a little banged up on the way to the hold?”  
  
Prowl stilled. He glared at Lockdown. “The bounty is higher if the mark’s alive,” he hissed.  
  
“Fragger’s alive,” Lockdown grumbled, and his feet dragged up, knees pressing in against Prowl’s back. “Just a little bruised and missing an arm. He’ll survive it.”  
  
Array throbbing, need clawing at the base of his spinal strut, thighs trembling from holding himself -- Prowl still darkened his glare at Lockdown. “The contract stipulated intactness or we forfeit the bonus,” he said. And it was a hefty bonus because Pentas were notoriously difficult to capture alive.   
  
“Then maybe the idiot shouldn’t have clocked you,” Lockdown said with a snort. He tugged on Prowl’s hip again, trying to budge an immovable object. “Come on. Stop holdin’ out on me. I’m gonna burst a line.”  
  
Prowl stared at him.  
  
For the span of a few sparkbeats, he considered the irascible, irreverent, lawless, bulk of a mech beneath him and drew conclusions he’d somehow missed before. He accepted the acts as flattering and endearing, rather than a commentary on his abilities.  
  
Lockdown was many things, but disparaging of Prowl’s capabilities had never been one of them. If anything, he’d always been the most encouraging, insisting Prowl had potential. Granted, it was potential on Lockdown’s scale of usefulness, but still. Potential.  
  
“Lucky for you, my patience is just as thin,” Prowl said, careful to keep his tone light, before he canted his hips and sank down, catching Lockdown and taking him deep.  
  
Not to the hilt. No amount of licking and overloading could make him relaxed enough to take all of Lockdown at once, but the stretch was delicious, and the thickness of him pushed those ridged nubs over Prowl’s valve lining. He shuddered, heat zipping up his backstrut, his fingers pushing hard at Lockdown’s abdominal seams.  
  
Lockdown groaned, long and low, and his hands cradled Prowl’s hips, half-supporting him and half-holding him in place. “Primus, you’re tight.”  
  
“That’s not a new discovery.” Prowl cycled a ventilation, briefly shuttered his optics, and focused on relaxing, on venting slowly, slowly, slowly…  
  
He moaned as he slid down another inch, then two, sinking further onto Lockdown’s spike until he was finally buried, his spikehead grinding against Prowl’s ceiling. Another electric shock radiated through his valve, pleasure sparking in harsh lines through his sensor net. Prowl shuddered, fingers kneading at Lockdown’s seams.  
  
A moan rattled in Lockdown’s chassis. “Slag.” Blue charge danced over his frame, erupting from his protoform. “This never gets old.”  
  
Prowl licked his lips and started to move, circling his hips and stirring Lockdown within him. “I’d hate to think you’d get bored of me.”  
  
“You never cease to surprise me.” Lockdown thrust up, pace increasing with rapid succession. “Boredom is impossible.”  
  
Prowl met his thrusts, working his hips faster, nips of charge zipping through his sensor net, coiling arousal deep in his belly. “Is that why you want me here? To be your entertainment?”  
  
Lockdown laughed, dark and rumbling, the sound going straight to Prowl’s array with a flash of heat. “Only in the best ways, kid.” His hand slid around, fingers dancing over Prowl’s anterior node. “So give me a show.”  
  
Prowl groaned, head tossing back, lightning licking up his spinal strut. The pressure on his node was intoxicating. His hips danced as he gave into it, back curving, hands curling, overload surging through his system like a flashfire. He moaned, writhing on top of Lockdown, spike spurting weakly and valve spiraling down tight.  
  
Lockdown muttered a curse, and Prowl found his back on the berth as Lockdown drove into him, their hips slamming together, his grip on Prowl’s hip unrelenting. His mouth crashed down on Prowl’s, tasting of Prowl’s own lubricant, the growl in his chassis vibrating against Prowl’s chestplate. He thrust deep, harder and faster, until the hot splash of his overload soaked Prowl’s lining, and sent his valve into an aftershock overload.  
  
Prowl trembled and went limp, splayed out on top of Lockdown as his partner ground deep, holding on to his overload as long as possible. His field was a frenetic swirl, wrapping around Prowl like an extra embrace, and the kiss gentled, impossibly so.  
  
Lockdown was rarely gentle. He wasn’t rough, not in the sense Prowl felt abused or mistreated. But there was a harshness to him, an untamed aspect to him Prowl had grown to adore. It was more erotic than it had right to be.  
  
Lockdown hummed against his lips and ended the kiss to drag his mouth along the curve of Prowl’s jaw, his field pulsing satisfaction as it skittered over the edges of Prowl’s own.  
  
“And that is how you celebrate a successful mission,” Lockdown said with a chuckle. “Mmm, you are the best partner I’ve ever had, kid.”  
  
“Is that because I let you frag me?”  
  
Lockdown barked a laugh. “Not even close.” He palmed Prowl’s aft and shifted, tilting them to the right so he could curl around Prowl after he’d slipped loose, leaving a mess between Prowl’s thighs. “I could definitely use a stasis nap now.”  
  
“I tried to do that earlier,” Prowl grumbled, but he allowed the mechhandling. It wasn’t worth to effort to fight free.  
  
“Yeah, well, we had to celebrate first.” Lockdown ex-vented against the back of his neck, denta scraping a soft pattern. “Oh, which reminds me. I got your half of the bounty.”  
  
“We haven’t been paid yet.” Prowl shuttered his optics, trying to ride the soothing aftertremors of overload into a stasis nap. He was still exhausted.  
  
Lockdown stroked his thigh before lifting his hand away and started rifling in one of his leg compartments. “It ain’t creds.”  
  
Prowl onlined his optics as Lockdown tapped his shoulder with a datapad. "What is it?"  
  
"You're just gonna have to look, kid."  
  
He groaned and dragged himself upright, and unsurprisingly found himself tugged against Lockdown, who would never call it cuddling or snuggling, but his urge to keep Prowl close after interfacing couldn't be called anything else. Possessive maybe if Prowl was being generous.  
  
Sometimes, he wondered if Lockdown just saw him as another trophy to claim.  
  
Prowl allowed the mechhandling only because he could get out of it if he put his processor to it. He flicked on the datapad and peered at the screen. Schematics flashed into view. Now Prowl was many things, but an expert in reading schematics was not one of them. Even after all the decades he spent aboard the Death's Head, his ability to do anything for the ship was limited to basic repairs. He had other skills.  
  
As Lockdown would attest.  
  
"I don't know what this means," Prowl said.  
  
Lockdown chuckled and reached over him, tapping the screen with his hook. "It's an upgrade to the solvent dispersal system." He could not have sounded more pleased with himself if he tried. "It quadruples our current stores."  
  
 _Our_. Prowl rather enjoyed the casual use of it.  
  
"Is that right?" Prowl asked, careful to keep his tone mild lest he betray how much he approved of the gesture.  
  
Lockdown rolled a spiked shoulder. "Got tired of your moaning about never having enough solvent. This oughta solve that problem." His tone was as casual as Prowl's.  
  
They were a pair, weren't they?  
  
"And it doesn't benefit you at all." Prowl snorted and powered off the datapad, leaning over to toss it on the berthside table.  
  
"Only in the sense that I finally have time to frag you up against that wall without getting doused in ice-cold suds." Lockdown smirked, his energy field turning molten hot as it poured over Prowl. "Only the best for my partner, eh?" He curved a massive hand around Prowl's thigh, thumb stroking upward, toward his array.  
  
"It'll do," Prowl said.  
  
Lockdown laughed and abruptly turned, pinning Prowl beneath him on the berth, his bulk splaying Prowl's thighs. "You're so hard to impress, kid. I think you're stubborn on purpose."  
  
"Or maybe you're just not that impressive."  
  
A hot mouth descended on Prowl's chevron, a rolling chuckle vibrating across it. A surge of arousal jolted down Prowl's spinal strut as Lockdown purred, "Oh, them's fighting words. You sure you wanna go there?"  
  
Prowl slid a hand over Lockdown's side and against his back, narrower fingers sliding between a transformation seam to the node nexus beneath. "That depends on whether you're in a mood to lose or not." He applied a light pressure, just enough for Lockdown's legs to go briefly tingly, on their way to numb. "Up to you."  
  
"Been awhile since we had a good tussle." Lockdown shifted his weight to his hook, and the other hand curved around Prowl's hip, lifting him up for a slow, steady grind. "Might be we're due. But then I'd have to stop doing this."  
  
His spike, already half-pressurized again, slid against the slick between Prowl's thighs, skating over his anterior node. Prowl swallowed a moan, his fingers curving into Lockdown's seams, grasping at the depths of his control.  
  
"Aren't you ever sated?" he asked, though he was no less innocent, as he started to rock and raise his hips into the grind.  
  
"You just bring out the beast in me, what can I say?" Lockdown chuckled again and buried his face against Prowl's intake, denta applying a firm pressure to his cables.  
  
Prowl's backstrut arched, more pleasure lighting up his spinal strut. "Then you'd better hurry up and frag me before this turns into a real fight."  
  
Lockdown tightened his grip and shifted, the head of his spike nudging at Prowl's rim. "Kid, you are something else," he growled and thrust forward, sinking home in one sharp, deep thrust.  
  
Prowl groaned, valve spasming, his sensory nodes firing an abrupt cavalcade of pleasure. Still primed from his last overload, the heat flooded his array in a tidalwave. He scrabbled at Lockdown's armor, fingers hooking for a grip, as Lockdown wasted no time in pounding him into the berth, pinning him against the giving surface.  
  
Prowl's head tossed back and biting kisses left dents and marks on his intake, the hot wash of Lockdown's ex-vents puffing over the dampened cables. He tightened his thighs and abdominal cables and pulled himself to meet each thrust, their arrays slamming together in a harsh clang that throbbed against his exterior nodes.  
  
"You call that... a frag?" Prowl panted as the ecstasy twisted and coiled inside of him, threatening to burst. He held back, because his second favorite joy in the universe was aggravating Lockdown.  
  
It worked.  
  
A low growl echoed against Prowl's intake. Lockdown outright bit him, hard enough for a driblet of energon to burst free against his glossa before he pulled back.  
  
"You're asking for it now," he vented, his optics dark coals of heat and want. "Don't complain to me later when I break you."  
  
Prowl managed a laugh. "I'd like to see you try."  
  
Amusement danced in Lockdown's optics. He licked his lips, clearing them of Prowl's energon. "With pleasure," he purred and the world turned upside down.  
  
Prowl scrambled to get hands and knees beneath him as a hand and a hook latched onto his hip and pulled him back onto Lockdown's spike, bottoming out in one fell thrust. This position enabled him to go deeper, and Prowl keened as Lockdown's pierced spikehead ground against his ceiling node.  
  
He gripped the berthcovers, dug his knees in, and pushed back, meeting Lockdown's rough motions, thrust for thrust. Pleasure sparked in a lightning burst behind his optics as Lockdown curved over him, his mouth clamping on the back of Prowl's neck and shoulder. His ex-vents puffed over Prowl's audial, each one accompanied by a hungry growl.  
  
"This hard enough for you, kid?" Lockdown asked as he nipped Prowl's audial and shifted his weight to one hand, slipping his hook beneath Prowl and giving him something to rut against.  
  
"It's a start," Prowl gasped, a shudder rippling over his frame, his spike dribbling pre-fluid, overload hovering in the wings.  
  
Lockdown slammed against his aft and pushed deep, circling his hips to grind hard against Prowl's internal nodes. He gasped and spasmed, valve clamping down hard on Lockdown's spike, the nubs encircling his spike grinding over Prowl's sensory net.  
  
"Come on, kid," Lockdown growled, his hook sliding up and down Prowl's spike, dragging sharp curls of static along his length. "Give it to me."  
  
Another bite sank into Prowl's shoulder, a sharp burst of pain that vanished as he overloaded, frame spasming, spike spilling over Lockdown's hook, his valve spiraling down tight.  
  
"Yes," Lockdown rumbled, his arm hooking around Prowl's waist as he sank back on his heels and pulled Prowl with him, the change in angle pushing him impossibly deep. "My turn."  
  
Prowl reached up, slinging his arms around Lockdown's neck, as a hooked grip on his hip kept in place for several deep, upward thrusts. He held on, frame rattling, as Lockdown pounded into him, sharp vents of heat bursting against the back of his neck.The echoes of overload surged back to the forefront, so quickly it almost hurt, pleasure blazing to life in his valve again.  
  
Prowl groaned and dug his fingers in, holding on as Lockdown quickened his pace, each thrust slamming into him, sending charge spilling outward in a wave of blue fire.  
  
"Get me so hot, kid," Lockdown said against his armor, denta scraping patterns into Prowl's paint. "Gonna mark you and make you mine."  
  
Prowl shivered and would never admit aloud how much the thought aroused him. How it made his valve flutter and squeeze, and the tightened coil threaten to erupt. He threw his head back and groaned as Lockdown thrust up hard into him, and buried him in another overload, sharp and near-painful as it came on the heels of the other.  
  
A splash of heat filled his valve as Lockdown yanked him down, groaning as he overloaded. His denta sank into the back of Prowl's neck, but the pain was lost given the echoes of overload still strumming through his lines.  
  
Prowl hissed and slipped back into Lockdown's embrace, exhaustion running through his frame alongside tremors of lingering pleasure. Any energy left drained out of him, leaving him a limp pile of plating covered in condensation.  
  
"Couldn’t ask for a better ending," Lockdown purred, hook arm slung around Prowl's waist while the other hand stroked the inside of Prowl's nearest thigh.  
  
"It would be even better if you'd let me recharge," Prowl grumbled tiredly. He pushed Lockdown's denta off his neck, his cables throbbing in the aftermath.  
  
Lockdown laughed and flopped onto the berth, dragging Prowl with him. Prowl let himself be mechhandled, too exhausted to care as Lockdown slipped out of him and curved around Prowl's frame. He was heavy and still stank of expended charge and organic blood.  
  
"Need to work on your stamina, kid," Lockdown rumbled.  
  
"I did most of the work today. My stamina is fine," Prowl retorted. He slithered out of Lockdown's grasp a little, giving himself some venting room. "What's our next mark?"  
  
Lockdown rested a possessive hand on his hip, and Prowl let him. "Our current client has a list, if we're so inclined." He nibbled on the back of Prowl’s boosters, the scrape of his denta sending a sursurrus of sound through Prowl’s sensornet. “He pays good. Even better than the Decepticons did.”  
  
Prowl made a non-committal noise, trying not to tense. It was easy not to think about slag when they were lightyears away, and he and Lockdown were isolated together, away from the influence of others. He didn’t want to think about Autobots or Decepticons or wars that weren’t or wars that might be or wars that are.  
  
Out in the universe like this, with only the next bounty to consider, Prowl could pretend for a little while that the rest didn’t matter. He didn’t have any guilt trying to swallow him whole. And he didn’t have any pointed looks at his choice of partner.  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Prowl said and stretched out, reclining against the berth, knowing by the end of the cycle, he’d wake up either blanketed by Lockdown, or embraced tightly. It was inevitable. “Can I recharge now?”  
  
Lockdown laughed and patted Prowl’s aft. “Sure thing, kid. You’ll need all your energy for round two later.”  
  
Prowl didn’t care enough to argue. He shifted until he was comfortable and shuttered his optics, the clattering-rumble of the Death’s Head comfortably familiar to his audials, and even more so, the steady rhythm of Lockdown’s vents.  
  
It maybe wasn’t the future Yoketron wouldn’t have wanted for him. Or the future he’d have chosen for himself, all the eons ago. But it was the future he’d chosen now, and that was good enough for Prowl.  
  


****


End file.
